Trash Fiancé, Meet My Revenge - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

"How dare you talk to me like that?" Damien's fingers dug into my wrist like steel clamps.
"Watch your tone!" he snapped.
Victoria perched on the bed like a spoiled princess, shrilly reminding me: "Don't forget who's been supporting you all these years! Damien even saved your mother's life!"
Her cheeks burned with humiliation, desperate to regain superiority by tearing me down. But her words couldn't touch me now.
"You remind me of Coco from our office building," I said calmly.
"That yappy little terrier who barks at everyone?" I tilted my head. "Though honestly, Coco's far cuter."
My indifferent stare carried razor-sharp sarcasm. In the past, I'd temper my words for Damien's sake, always yielding to Victoria's theatrics. Not anymore. Now that I'd decided to leave Damien, why would I care about some basic bitch?
"Damien!" Victoria shrieked, clinging to his arm while pressing her cleavage against him. "This slut's mouth needs washing out with soap!"
Only then did Damien seem to notice my transformation. His stormy expression faltered—clearly unprepared for this version of me.
"Check your phone when you get a chance," I said lightly, eyeing their tangled limbs with disdain as I wheeled my suitcase toward freedom.
Damien lunged, grabbing me again. I shoved him off with surprising force.
"Final warning—don't touch me." My finger jabbed toward his face. The shock in his eyes sent delicious satisfaction coursing through me.
Five years. Five years of walking on eggshells. The wealth gap between us meant I'd always been love's doormat—seeking his approval for everything, catering to his moods, planning every damn meal and vacation. More personal assistant than girlfriend. And him? He got to play lord of the manor while I...
Damien's knuckles whitened, his murderous glare suggesting he wanted to skin me alive.
"Damien, don't waste your anger on her!" Victoria wedged herself between us like a human shield. "You'll end up like her pathetic, dead—"
Not this again. Normally her mother insults would gut me. But today?
My palm connected with her cheek before I'd even decided to swing.
The resulting scream could've shattered crystal. Victoria lunged at me like a rabid Pomeranian until Damien restrained her.
"She hit me! That worthless bitch actually hit me!" Victoria's perfect world was crumbling—how dare her punching bag fight back? This would be her life's greatest humiliation.
Damien shielded her, demanding: "Why would you do that?"
I met his gaze without flinching. Old me would've groveled with explanations, protecting his precious ego at all costs. Current me just flexed my stinging hand.
"Since when do I need reasons to slap trash?"
The catharsis was intoxicating—like cutting away years of emotional shackles.
"What did you just say?" His voice cracked with barely contained rage. He wanted justification, but I'd stopped caring about his fragile male ego.
"If you're having trouble understanding human speech, maybe play with Coco downstairs. Not very bright, but he'll help translate whatever nonsense Victoria's spouting next time."
With that mic drop, I turned on my heel. Damien stood frozen—Mr. Big Shot suddenly powerless. Because the truth was simple: he cared more about saving face than defending his little mistress.
Victoria's wails faded behind me as I stepped from that gilded prison into blinding sunlight. For the first time in five years, I could see clearly.
My future was waiting.